The Stands
by planeAmage
Summary: Oliver Wood was Hermione Granger's friend before she went to Hogwarts. What will happen when they meet at school?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Oliver Wood (sniff), or any other Harry Potter characters, as I am not British, and therefore not J. K. Rowling.

"Thank you so much for coning on such short notice, Oliver," Carloyn Granger said to the fourteen-year-old boy standing on her doorstep. "We really are sorry, but Claire just said she quit and walked out of the house just as we walked in yesterday, and we really need somebody to watch Hermione while we're gone. She tends to get….into trouble."

It was ten o'clock on a summer morning, and Oliver Wood was standing on the front doorstep of a suburban house outside London. He was looking to earn some money for all the trips to Hogsmeade that he would get to go on in the upcoming school year, and so he had posted a sign for "Lawn mowing, babysitting, and more!" at the small store down the street from he house. The Grangers had seen his sign and called the night before, asking him to baby sit their nine-year old daughter, Hermione, the next day.

"It's all right, Mrs. Granger. I don't have anything else to do; I would probably have sat around at home all day, if you hadn't called."

"Oh. Anyway, here's a list of emergency telephone numbers. We'll be back by two. Help yourself to lunch. Hermione's in her room, up the stairs and it's the first door on the left. Please try to keep her calm," She said, and walked out the door, shortly followed by her husband, who laid his hand on Oliver's shoulder and wished him good luck before leaving.

Oliver sighed, closed the door, and walked up the stairs to the girl's room, where he found Hermione on the floor, reading Witches, Evil Stepmothers, and Unhelpful Fairy Godmothers: Why They Do What They Do by Albus Dumbledore. Oliver grinned, recognizing the author. _That seems like something he would do,_ Oliver thought,_ write something completely fictional about real people like himself._

"Hello. Are you Oliver? I'm Hermione."

"Yes, I'm Oliver," he said. "Nice to meet you. What's that book about?"

"It's about evil characters in fairy tales and their motives for being evil. For example, Mr. Dumbledore says that Snow White's evil stepmother was not only jealous of her stepdaughter's beauty, but also of the time that she spent with her father, the King. She thought that Snow White would eventually turn him against her and that she would be banished. She liked being the queen, and liked the power she held as such, but she also loved her husband, and wouldn't be able to bear being separated from him for the rest of her life. She was a little bit paranoid, and did it out of fear as well as jealousy. Mr. Dumbledore portrays all the supposedly evil characters as being truly good at heart. It makes me feel a little bit bad for them."

Oliver had never seen a child be that excited over a book, especially not a child as young as Hermione looked.

"Wow. That's really interesting. Maybe I'll check it out of the library next time I'm there. So, how old are you?"

"I'm nine and a half. I'll be in the fourth grade at Pineridge Elementary School in September. How old are you?"

"I turned fourteen two weeks ago."

"Oh. Late happy birthday, then. Did you get any good presents?"

"Oh, yeah. Lots. One friend gave me a soccer ball. Another friend who's really into magic stuff gave me a book called Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them. It was really good. My mom got me a great book called The Shakespeare Stealer, by Gary Blackwood."

"Have you read it yet? It's awesome. I love it! I went and saw Hamlet with my parents over Christmas, and I loved that, too! Have you ever read or seen anything by Shakespeare? Twelfth Night is my favorite, but Julius Caesar is pretty good, too."

"Yeah, I've read it! It's one of the few books that I've really enjoyed reading in a while," Oliver exclaimed, and that was the beginning of a friendship between Oliver Wood and Hermione Granger.

Oliver babysat every Monday thru Thursday from ten a. m. until two p.m. for the rest of that summer. They talked about books, what Hermione did in school (Oliver, obviously, shied away from speaking of his own education,) their theories about magic, and sports (Oliver played soccer and basketball over the summers, and Hermione swam.) Oliver learned that Hermione liked reading about magic, but her parents didn't want her to "waste her time on such trivial fantasies." Her favorite subject was math, but she didn't like her third grade teachers very much, so she looked forward to reading class more.

The summer after that, Hermione declared herself too old for a babysitter. However, they still spoke to each other. Sometimes they saw each other at the park or at the pool, and occasionally Oliver would walk over to Hermione's house.

It was on one of these occasions that he was run into by the very person he had wanted to see. She was running out of the house, tears streaming down her face. As soon ass she saw him she tried to wipe them away, but to no avail. Oliver had never before been put in this position with Hermione, but he tried his best to comfort her anyway.

"'Mione, what's up? Why are you crying?" He asked, using his special nickname for her.

"No-nothing."

"Liar. I have never seen you cry before, so I don't expect you to start crying over 'nothing.'"

"My parents said I shouldn't talk about it."

"Oh. You want to go inside and get some ice cream and read something to me? Maybe the next installment of Flight?" He asked. Flight was a story that Hermione was in the process of writing, and reading it out loud, especially to Oliver, while eating ice cream always seemed to cheer her up.

"Not really. How bout we go to the park instead?" She asked. Oliver was surprised, but agreed. She wild her hand into his, and they started walking up the street.

A/N: This is my first story. Pleasepleaseplease review and tell me how to improve my writing.


	2. Chapter 2

"Drs. Granger," the woman sitting in Hermione's living room began. "Your daughter is very special. I advise that you listen to what I say and then think it over for a while before you say no. I'm sure you remember an incident about five years ago when you left Hermione at home with a babysitter and when you returned, the sitter was made up as a clown and couldn't get the paint off? That was the first time your daughter was made known to Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic."

"The Ministry of Magic?" Carolyn Granger repeated skeptically.

"Yes. The Ministry is in charge of the British wizarding community in general, including our relations with muggles."

"What on this good earth are muggles?" Andrew Granger asked.

"Oh, pardon me. 'Muggles' is the term we use for non-magical folk such as yourself. As I was saying, that was when your daughter came to our attention for the first time. Since then, we have been paying close attention to magical activity in this area, and I must say, young Miss Granger seems to be quite powerful, with the frequency of incidents around here. I'm sure it would greatly benefit the strength of your walls if you sent Hermione to Hogwarts. She is, I repeat, a very powerful witch and if she isn't properly trained, her magic will get a bit out of control, possibly causing injury to someone."

"I told you you shouldn't have let her wander into the fantasy section of the bookstore, Andrew! There is no way this would have happened if she hadn't been so interested tin those books!" Carolyn exclaimed.

"Well, you were the one who got her the library card! If it weren't for that, she wouldn't have been able to read them!" Andrew argued back.

"Excuse me, Drs. Ganger. Your daughter's magical abilities were determined before she was even born. Don't ask me why she, of all people, got them- I can't honestly tell you. But please, don't blame each other. If you send your daughter to Hogwarts, she will learn how to control her magic, and how to use it properly. It will benefit her. And the number of repair bills you will have to pay on your house, I'm sure. Hermione's power is only going to grow as she gets older. No matter how long you keep her away from other witches and wizards, no matter how much you pretend we don't exist, we will be here. You can tell your daughter that magic isn't real, that Hogwarts doesn't exist, all you want, but it would be a lie. We do exist, and your daughter does have magic. So I will repeat again, it would benefit us to have someone so powerful with us, it would benefit you not to have to deal with random outbursts of magic, and it will benefit your daughter to learn how to use her magic if she came to Hogwarts." The professor finished.

"Mother, please. You know she has a point. If you want, I'll keep up with my schoolwork from her, but please, mother, father, please let me go! Everybody here calls me a freak, 'cause of that thing with Mary, please let me go!" Hermione begged.

"Fine. I suppose, as long as you keep up with your normal schoolwork, it couldn't hurt to let you try it for a year. If you like it and keep up, you may continue," Hermione's father gave in, while her mother gaped at him.

"Thank you, Father, thank you so much!"

"That was a very wise decision, Dr. Granger. I daresay your daughter will not be running out of the house quite so distraught anymore as she did the other day. I will accompany you to Diagon alley this afternoon to buy Miss Granger's supplies for the upcoming school year."

"Diagon Alley? Is that in London? I've never heard of it and I've lived there all my life," Andrew questioned.

"Yes, it is. Now, will both of you be coming, or just one?"

"No, only Andrew will be going. An important patient is coming into the office to have a few teeth pulled today."

"All right then. Hermione, please give me your hand. You, too, Dr. Granger," the woman requested. "Thank you. Hold tight." Then, there was a pop, and Carolyn was left alone in her living room.

* * *

"Here we are, Flourish & Blotts."

"Wow… Are all those on magic? Am I allowed to touch them? Are there any on flying? Oooh, how much do they cost? Oh, wow, potions? What's arithmancy? Isn't divination telling the future?"

"Miss Granger, as much as I appreciate-"

"Flying? Broomsticks? They're real! Wicked!"

"Miss Granger, please. I admire your curiosity, but really, we have a limited amount of time. This is still our first stop. Now, go down that aisle and find _The Standard Book of Spells_…"

And so the afternoon went. As soon as they entered a store, Hermione would shoot off a thousand questions, and the professor would remind her why they were there. Dr. Granger followed quietly, observing the new world around him.

Finally, somewhere between the Apothecary and Olivander's, their last stop, Hermione caught sight of the quidditch store- and the Nimbus 2000 in the front window- and convinced McGonagall to let her just look in the window.

"It's beautiful! I wonder what it feels like to ride one. Being so high up, going so fast… it must be amazing," Hermione sighed.

"I'm sure it is. Perhaps you will try out for your house Quidditch team next year."

"Quidditch? What's that?"

"It's a sport you play on brooms. Come along now, we must get to Olivander's before he closes."

Hermione managed to pull herself away fro the window, but she couldn't resist one last glance back to the shop once she was halfway up the street. _Was that…? No, it couldn't possibly be him. He wouldn't dare talk about magic if he knew it was real, and I know he said something about school that was very- what did McGonagall call it?- Right, muggle. But, it did look so much like him… _Hermione thought.

* * *

Oliver had a very nice day. For once, the sun had not woken him up that morning, and he had received an owl fro Percy Weasley saying that he was going to Diagon Alley that day, and would Oliver like to come? Oliver, of course, immediately owled back that he would love to.

He had gotten lunch at a muggle restaurant near the Leaky Cauldron, and then met up with the Weasleys at Eeylop's Owl Emporium. Percy's parents were getting him an owl because he had become a prefect. Then they went to get Percy's brother, Ron, a wand from Olivander's, and got their books and potions supplies.

"So, Fred, George, you guys gong to be my beaters this year?" Oliver asked the twins.

"O'course!" George responded

"Give up a chance to beat Slytherins up without getting in trouble for it? Who do you think we are, Percy?" Fred added

"And what do you mean, _your_ beaters?"

"Well, I made Quidditch captain this year; therefore, all players are my players."

"Congratulations, Oliver! Your parents must be so proud," Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, not noticing the boy's slight twitch when she mentioned his parents. His mother, a pure-blood, had wanted him to spend more time on his studies, and his father, who was muggle-born, was rarely at home. Oliver had seen no need to inform either of them of his appointment.

"Hey Mum, in honor of Oliver's new position, let's go to the quidditch store near Florean's!" Ron suggested.

"Oy, George! I'll race you!" One of the twins called, and they both started off with Oliver and Percy chasing after them, and Mrs. Weasley and Ron walking quickly behind them.

Once they had gotten to the store, Fred and George immediately went over to the beater's section and started whispering to each other.

"I am very afraid for whoever happens to be on the receiving end of one of their next bludgers. They'll probably jinx it so that it explodes into pigeons," Oliver remarked to Percy quietly.

"Don't give them any ideas," Percy warned, before going off into the book section. Oliver followed him and immediately found a book titled _In the Hoop: Weaving and Other Strategies for Keepers_. As he was opening the book, he looked up to the Nimbus 2000 on display in the window, and caught sight of a girl standing outside.

'_No, it can't be her. She's so... logical. Magic defies logic; you can't be magical and logical at the same time. Really, she was only there for a second, it was probably just your imagination.'_

But suddenly, he was filled with an immense curiosity to see if it really was her.

"Mrs. Weasley, it's a little stuffy in her, I think I'll go outside for a second."

"Alright, Oliver. Don't go far,"

By the time Oliver got out of the store, the girl had already left.

* * *

I'm sure this chapter's a little boring- I was writing it while I was waiting for exams to let out. Next one'll be better.

Questions? Comments? Concerns? Review!

Please point out any Americanisms that I have put in

Also, could someone please tell me what a beta reader is?


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: None of the characters, settings, etc. belong to me.

* * *

"So, excited for school, Hermione?" Oliver asked about a week before school started.

"Do you not know me at all? Of course I'm excited! I'm going to go to—" she cut her enthusiastic reply short when she realized what she had almost said, but recovered quickly. "I'm going to go to math happy. Surely I can't get horrible teachers four years in a row."

It wasn't saved quick enough to escape Oliver's notice. "Don't be too confident. That's a recipe for disaster. But you'll probably get a good one this year," he said, while wondering if her almost slip-up had anything to do with Hogwarts.

"I thought I was the one who was supposed to tell you not to be too confident? Remember the soccer game?" She asked, referring to the one game that summer in which Oliver had gotten hurt. Coincidentally, that was also the only game Hermione hadn't told him not to be too confident.

"That wasn't half as bad as when I fell during the championship… basketball game at school," Oliver responded.

Hermione wondered why he had taken such a pause as she asked what had happened. As Oliver stammered out a reply, she became more suspicious, connecting things in her mind.

Oliver was too worried coming up with a 'normal' answer that he didn't notice that Hermione was no longer paying attention.

* * *

Finally, the day Hermione had been awaiting both impatiently and nervously arrived. September first. Her bags had been packed for days, and she had gone to bed early the night before. She forced down a slice of toast for breakfast and got into the car. 

The ride to King's Cross was silent and short. Hermione was too nervous to say anything, and her parents had no idea what to say to their daughter, who would be completely different the next time they saw her.

Hermione was relieved when they made it to the station a full hour before the train was to leave. The relief quickly diminished when she realized how big the station was. It was utterly destroyed when her father stopped and asked her where, exactly, platform 9 ¾ was.

"Oh, no! I have no idea. I thought it would be here, but it's not!"

"Well, we'll figure it out soon. I bet that man knows," Her father comforted her, pointing to a nearby guard and walking towards him. He came back shaking his head.

Hermione walked over to a nearby barrier, still holding onto her cart, fully intending to either learn against it and cry, or bang her head against it. She never quite made it. Or rather, she made it, but couldn't lean against it, because she fell right through and found herself staring at a sign saying "9 3/4" and hearing an engine puffing into the station.

On the other side of the barrier, Hermione's parents saw her fall through, and followed worriedly.

By the time they got through, Hermione had scrambled to her feet and was staring at the cheery train, which proclaimed itself "The Hogwarts Express." Hermione looked at the clock. She still had half an hour.

"Well, I suppose you'd better get settled on the train. Wouldn't want to get stuck with people six years older than you," her mother suggested with tears in her eyes. They exchanged appropriate farewells, and Hermione boarded the train.

Most of the compartments were empty, so she had no trouble finding a place to sit. About ten minutes before the trains was to leave, a chubby, scared-looking boy stepped timidly into her compartment and asked if he could sit with her. She discovered that his name was Neville, he was also a first-year, and he had a toad named Trevor.

Shortly after that, they were joined by two other first-years. Justin Finch-Fletchley was constantly smiling and was unusually tall for an eleven year old. Lisa Turpin wore glasses, and the frizziness of her hair almost resembled Hermione's.

Soon, the train began to move. Hermione, who had rarely been out of the suburbs, was amazed by the scenery. The food trolley passed by about halfway through their trip. Neville and Justin both bought chocolate frogs. Neville was halfway through his second when he realized his toad was missing.

"Trevor! Guys, have you seen Trevor? Oh, no, he's gone missing again! Gran'll have my head at Christmas if I've lost him!" Neville cried out.

"Don't worry, Neville, we'll find him" Hermione comforted the boy, who was nearly crying. "Neville you look in the compartments to the left. I'll go to the right," Hermione commanded, immediately going into "boss" mode. "Justin, Lisa, stay here. Look through everything that a toad could possibly get into."

Hermione walked through the train, asking everybody if they had seen the toad. Nobody had. She and Neville both came back with the same result. Justin and Lisa hadn't seen him, either. Eventually, they decided that they would go out again, Justin and Lisa to the right and Neville and Hermione to the left.

Three cars down, Neville and Hermione met Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Hermione didn't think Harry quite lived up to his reputation, hanging out with a boy who couldn't even change his rat's color.

By the time they made it to the last compartment, they were both despairing of ever finding Trevor. Hermione opened the door, but the question died on her tongue when she saws the occupants of the compartment.

* * *

ok, I know it's short... but it's up!

Thank you to all my lovely reviewers!

I might have another chapter up by the end of the week, but if i don't there probably won't be one until mid-late august.


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